Shifting Gears: The Complete Series (Sports Bad Boy Romance) (63 page)

BOOK: Shifting Gears: The Complete Series (Sports Bad Boy Romance)
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“I was trying to work my nerve up to ask
you.” Again, he had to say, “I’m kidding! I have two tickets, the concert is
tonight and my buddy who was going with me cancelled last night because his
girlfriend apparently objected to him going out with me…I can’t understand it.
I’m a really great guy.”

It was my turn to laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m
not usually so paranoid. It’s been a weird couple of weeks. But I do see we’ll
need to work on that ego too while you’re here. Need to Breathe huh? Wow…I
actually love them.”

“We can make a night of it. The concert
starts at eight. I can pick you up at six and we can have dinner first…”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. Why hadn’t
I just said no? The last thing I needed was more complication in my life.
“Squats now.”

“Ah, my favorite form of torture.”

I smiled, “Mine too.”

He picked up the barbell and said, “Front
or back?” Sometimes squats are done with the weights on the shoulders and
sometimes with them held in front of the chest.

“Both,” I told him.

“You do like this torture,” he said. I had
him start with it in front. While he was working I was running all of the
reasons why I shouldn’t go out with this guy through my mind. He was a client,
I was physically attracted to him so time alone in close quarters might be
dangerous…and most of all, he wasn’t Paul. What if Paul came back tomorrow?
Would he even care that I’d gone out with another guy? What if I turned down
Justin and sat around and waited for Paul…and he never came back. Shit! I went
over the reasons I should go then. I had no idea if Paul would ever be back.
Paul and I hadn’t gotten to the point of being in a committed relationship even
if he did come back. Justin was really cute. He had blonde hair and blue eyes
and that wholesome boy-next-door look to him. I absolutely loved Need to
Breathe…And the final reason I should: At the very least, going out with this
guy would get my mom off my back about my ex…maybe.

By the time he was finished with the
entire exercise, he was whooped. He got some water and walked around on the
mats a bit before picking up his towel and wiping the sweat off his face. “So?”
he said when he finished.

“So what?” I asked.

Shaking his head he said, “I think you’re
into more than one kind of torture. So how about tonight?”

“I guess…it might be fun.”

“Wow, curb the enthusiasm.” Another good
reason for going, he made me laugh. It was something I needed these days. There
was nothing wrong with just going out as friends.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, “I meant to say
I’d love to go.”

“Much better, but by the time I pick you
up can you work on your inflection a little more? Put some real feeling into it
for me?”

I laughed again. “I’ll do my best.”
 

 

CHAPTER
TWO

While I finished my day at work I thought
a hundred different times about calling Justin and cancelling. He had left me
his number. I shouldn’t do this. I was still screwed up over Paul. I knew I was
being ridiculous…Paul and I slept together a couple of times and we had shared
some pretty personal stuff…but that didn’t constitute a relationship just
yet…and I knew that, rationally. My heart however was telling me that I should
give him the benefit of the doubt. He would be back and with that in mind, I
should be loyal. I had to believe he really liked me. He had shared a lot with
me about his life. I think a lot more than he chose to share with most people.

I walked back home slowly, batting the
pros and cons back and forth in my head as I did. The pros won out today and I
convinced myself that since it was just dinner and a concert it didn’t have to
be a date. It really could just be two friends hanging out like I said. After
all, I wasn’t going to sleep with this guy tonight. Not that if I’d met him at
a different time….Justin is a really hot guy. But once again, he’s not Paul.

“Hey baby,” my mother and roommate greeted
me as I walked in the door.

“Hi Mom.”

“How was the day?”

“It was good. How was yours?”

“I filled out a few applications online,”
she told me, obviously proud of herself.

“Wow Mom, that’s great. Where did you
apply?”

“Some restaurants,” she said, vaguely. I
had no idea if she was really applying for jobs. She told me she did every day,
but I couldn’t very well check out all of her stories. Besides, she probably
wouldn’t stay single for long anyways and then she’d be someone else’s problem
for a while. I know that was a terrible way to think of it, but she was my
mother and this is who she is.

“Good for you,” I told her, trying my best
to sound encouraging. “Speaking of restaurants, would you like me to order
something in for you tonight? I’m going out for a while.”

“Going out? With who? Is this the mystery
man…?”

Rolling my eyes I said, “It’s no mystery,
mom. We’re going to dinner and a concert.”

“What’s his name?”

I sighed, “Justin.”

“Justin?”

“Not that one, Mom. This Justin is not a
drug dealer. Now, where do you want me to order in from for you?”

“Where is he taking you?”

“I told you, dinner and a concert.”

“Where are you going to dinner? Where a
man chooses to take you says a lot about him.”

“I wish you would have told me that years
ago, Mother. That way when my last boyfriend took to Compton with him and we
had dinner at his “connections” home…if you could even call it that, I may have
gotten a little suspicious.”

“I was trying to make conversation. How
did you get so sarcastic?”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, Mom. I don’t
want to fight. You decide what you want for dinner while I take a shower and
I’ll call it in for you before I go.”

I went into my room, joyously closing her
out. She could ruin my peace quicker than anyone else I knew. I’m sure it’s
just because I spent the bulk of my life wishing I had a “normal” mother like
everyone else and I still harbor just a little bit of resentment towards her
because of that. I shook off my annoyance at her and picked out a new pair of
jeans and a nice sleeveless green blouse that I’d bought with them. I took my
shower and while I was blow-drying my hair, my mom knocked on the door.

“Yes?”

“I’m not really hungry yet, honey. Maybe
you can just leave me twenty bucks for a pizza?”

I hated leaving her cash. It was like
having PTSD. My mind went back to the days that any cash she got her hands
on…even if it came from her daughter’s wallet went for drugs or alcohol. I took
a deep breath and reminded myself that so far, the time she’d been here she had
seemed sober. I couldn’t watch her like a hawk twenty-four seven. I was going
to have to trust her.

“Okay, Mom. That’s fine,” I told her. I
finished drying my hair and then I straightened it. I put on a little make-up,
some liner and mascara to bring out my pale eyelashes and a little powder to
color the bright white of my skin. I wore a pair of short boots that just
covered the bottom of my jeans. When I finished, I took one last look…I didn’t
look too bad.

When I walked out into the living room my
mom said, “Oh my God Jessie! You are gorgeous, baby!”

“Thanks Mom,” I told her. The compliment
was sweet, but there was that trust factor again. I never really knew when to
take her seriously. I really wish that we had a “normal” mother/daughter
relationship, but the fact was that we don’t. I had to learn to deal with it. I
went over to my purse and took out a twenty and a ten. I left them on the table
and told her to order what she wanted.

“Thank you, baby. I hate asking you for
money for every little thing. I’m gonna pay you all of this back just as soon
as I can.”

“I’m not worried about it, Mom. I just
want to help you get back on your feet.” That was true. I did want to see her
do well. It was just hard after all of the failures to believe it was ever going
to happen.

The doorbell rang then and I saw her run
her fingers through her hair and smack her lips a little. Some things never
changed, she was always “on” for a man. I opened the door and Justin was
standing there in a blue denim shirt unbuttoned just enough at the top so it
showed a little

chest but not so much that he looked like
a bouncer called Tony. His jeans fit him nicely and I had to tell myself not to
gawk.
 

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he said with that smile that made
you want to just eat him up with a spoon. “You look really…really nice.”

“Thanks, you too. Come in, I just have to
grab my purse.” He stepped inside and I said, “Justin this is my mom, Lynn.”

Mom tossed her hair back over her shoulder
and smiled. I could tell that she thought he was good-looking without her
saying a word. I’m sure that he could too. She was looking at him like she was
about to pounce. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Justin.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, shaking
the hand she extended.

“Why don’t you have a seat here with me while
Jessie gets her things together?”

“No things, Mom. Just my purse.”

“So what do you do, Justin?”

“I got it…we can go now.” Poor Justin was
torn. The gentleman in him wanted to sit down with her, I could tell. He just
had no idea what he was getting into. If he sat down, she would know exactly
how much not only he but both of his parents made last year inside of five
minutes.

“Maybe we can talk another time, Lynn?”

“I would love that,” she said. “My
daughter is a fabulous cook. Maybe next time you can have dinner here with us?”

“That sounds great,” he said with a wink
in my direction.

“Okay Mom, lock the door behind us and
have a good night.”

“You kids be good,” Mom said. It was a
comment riddled with undertones. Just as I was headed out the door she whispered,
“He’s hot, baby.”

All I could do was hope that he didn’t
hear her. I should be used to her embarrassing me by now, but maybe it was a
thing a person never really got used to. I was surprised when he led me out to
a gray Honda. Thinking he was joking I looked around the parking lot for that
lifted four-wheel drive truck.

“This is your car?” I asked him.

He grinned, “Yeah. I lied about the
truck.”

I slid into the seat as he held the door.
I was putting on my seatbelt when he got in on the driver’s side. “Why?”

He put on his seatbelt and started the
car. Then he said, “Because I was trying to impress you. I honestly didn’t
think you would agree to go out with me and then you’d never know I fibbed.”

“Why?”

He laughed, “Are you a three year old in
disguise?” he asked, jokingly. “Why? Why? Why?”

“Seriously, why would you think I wouldn’t
go out with you?”

“I just assumed you would tell me that you
were already seeing someone. Or you wouldn’t think I was in your league…or even
in the ball park. It’s hard to imagine why you’re not already taken. You’re
gorgeous and from the little time I’ve spent with you, you seem smart and
funny. You’re a catch,” he was grinning, but his words struck me as sincere. I
felt my face go hot and I knew that it was the color of my hair.

“Thank you.” Trying to change the subject
so that I wasn’t the center of it, I said, “So when did you decide you really
wanted to be a runner…like full-time?”

“When I was about twelve. My dad ran the
Boston Marathon and he came in third. It was the coolest thing…I was so proud
of him and I wanted to be just like him.”

“Does he still run?”

“No. He wore out his knees. He’s had both
of them along with his left hip replaced.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. That’s why I train…I want to run
smart and make my body last. I’m going to retire before I start falling apart.
Back in his day runner’s ran…period.”

“Smart idea,” I told him.

“What about you? What made you want to be
a trainer?”

“I’ve always been kind of into nutrition
and fitness. I guess it gave me something positive to focus on when I was a
kid. When I was deciding what to major in I tried to go for something that
would make me happy, and this does. It’s a really gratifying feeling to help
someone learn how to make their body work for them.”

“I bet,” he said. As we turned onto Sunset
Blvd. he said, “I have another confession to make.”

“Another?”

“Yeah, you know…how I’m not a tough guy
with a big truck?”

Laughing, I said, “Uh oh, this sounds
serious.”

“It’s been received well in some circles,
and very, very badly in others.”

“You’re gay?” I was kidding, but it would
take a little of the pressure off of me if he was.

With a straight, serious face he said,
“No, but I’ve been accused of it…I’m a vegan.”

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